Of Catnip and Crablegs
by Neo-Pop
Summary: A series of daily drabbles and one-shots directed at two certain someones. Point of view tends to switch, as well as species. Themes will also vary. These drabbles will continue until New Year's day. Rated T for Karkat's language.
1. Cleanliness

She was always late for something. _Always. _

Whether it was hightailing it to class or rushing out the door for a dinner date, she always found a way to be at least three minutes tardy.

Karkat finds this trait exceedingly irritating. Where she lacked the knowledge of time and put things to last minute, he had a record of excellent attendance and work turned in on time, not a second overdue.

Well. That was before he moved in with her. Now, he was constantly throwing her laundry into baskets, keeping the floors clean, bent on making everything pristine.

It bugged her. Sometimes, to ease on the overly clean interior, or to poke fun at her housemate's mood, she's take one of her olive socks from her feet and drape them over the couch. About three minutes later the atmosphere would be interrupted by a low hiss of annoyance, followed with loud stomping up the wooden stairs, where he'd corner her while she lounged about on the bed.

He'd give her a good talking to.

She'd raise an eyebrow at him.

Of course, this is before she pulled him onto the mattress and smothered him with a clumsy kiss.

She was sloppy.

He was neat.

She loved noise,

He preferred silence.

She longed for kisses, and he would settle for snuggles.

No, they weren't perfect.

But hey, they most certainly had an interesting relationship.


	2. Frost

It was freezing. Super, agonizingly, fucking freezing. Frost bit down on his nose, red dusting on the gray skin on the structure of cartilage. When he breathed, the expelled air from his lungs manifested in front of him, a wispy mist that floated in lazy curls before disappearing. No matter how many coats he layered on his body he always managed to freeze, strange bumps raising against his gray skin. He shivered, teeth chattering dangerously near his tongue. The wind once again blew in his face, and he pulled his scarlet scarf further upon his face with a low guttural snarl. He was more than positive his horns were about to fall off.

Human weather is stupid. Everything about humans is stupid. Their world is the most ridiculous sustainer of life he had ever seen. Why the fuck would anyone enjoy mounds of fluffy white shit stacked up to their knees?

Obviously the three overly cheerful bastards that drug him out from the warmth of his blankets.

He was going to rip John's throat out. Rose's too. Even if she did make him a scarf, she was still going to pay for leading him out in a clad white world.

"If I stay out here any longer my horns are going to fall off," he seethed, sticking his hands under his arms with a shiver. "And it's going to be all your fault. I hope you're fucking proud of yourself you piece of shit."

"You just need to relax," came the reply. She was so calm. Damn Rose. Damn her to hell.

"Gee, it's really fucking hard to when you're freezing your ass off, don't you think?"

"At least your friend there is having a good time, yes?"

Well that was just Nepeta. He had been watching her coat herself in the thick substance of ivory, occasionally rolling onto her stomach to stretch, wriggle her rump, and leap gracefully into the air, only to land in a heap, head God knows how deep in the snow. In a way, he found it comical.

She was fucking ridiculous. And she was going to freeze. There'd be no way he'd slave away while she caught some sort of human disease.

"Stop that," he barked. "You're gonna freeze, and I'll have to carry your ass home."

"But it's fuuuuuuuuuuun," she mewled dramatically before crawling forward on her front, shoving her nose into more icy fluff. "You gotta try this Karkat, it's so weird!"

"I'd rather keep my nose, thanks," he huffed. What the hell was wrong with her? She choked out a noisy sneeze before literally shaking herself out like Jade's infernal barkbeast and bounding over, arms outstretched.

"No, _**NO, NEPETA STOP, WAIT—" **_ She impacted against him powerfully, nearly toppling them both over into the snow. He had to arrange his arms to catch the feline obsessed troll, as to avoid dropping her flat on her front.

Scarlet bloomed over his cheeks as she laughed gleefully up at him, fastening her arms around his neck. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Thanks for bringing me out here," she chirped gleefully.

Oh god. Not the face. Anything but that face, ebony hair dusted with specks of white, a light green tinting her grey skinned ears.

Every.

Fucking.

Time.

"… Yeah, whatever. Better enjoy it, because we're not doing it again." A chilly nose brushed his cheek as her lips ghosted over his concealed pair, and he almost relaxed entirely as he returned the embrace.

"I'm freezing," She yowled into his fabric layered chest.

"Who's fault is that?!"

Okay. Maybe this thing called winter _wasn't _so bad. But he could definitely go without frigid temperatures.

And snowballs pelting the back of his head.


	3. Accidents

Some things are downright funny. You'd laugh until your sides hurt, and move on without a care in the world.

However, this was a severe dilemma. She ducked low in front of the dryer, panic slinking up her spine in a deadly manner.

He was going to kill her.

There were a lot of things she had done to throw Karkat over the edge. Steal the blankets in the middle of the night. Outright refuse to get in the car. Starting a pillow fight in the middle of the movie. However those were easily forgivable. They'd laugh it off before sighing in content, switching their focus to a more important manner.

But accidently coloring his favorite shirt a pastel pink with the cherry blossom detergent she had gotten was _not _okay.

He was really gonna hand it to her this time.

Maybe he'd let her keep it.


	4. Mourning

The air was thick with humidity, his white hair a frizzy mess. He could hear the soft pitter patter of rain pounding on the roof, painting his windows with fine, clear streaks of water.

It was a little cold. Nothing his grey sweater couldn't withstand. However as of the moment, he couldn't fight off the slight chill in his heart, or work up the nerve to be his usual ornery self.

Not while she was grieving on the stone steps outside.

It had happened so fast.

He could hardly recall tripping his way down the narrow stair case, weighed down with sleep, sliding across the linoleum kitchen floor and bolting through the living room to see the front door hung open

And Nepeta, collapsed upon her knees, clutching herself and screaming into the rain.

Such a horrible sound. It was such a sad, terrible sound that fell upon his ears.

The chaos had played out at least fifteen minutes ago.

Now he was located in the kitchen, standing near the counter, twisting his body slowly, biting nervously at his chapped bottom lip. He had never expected this sort of thing. He never saw it coming.

It was his fault. It was all his fault. He should have checked, should had made sure before slinking into bed, pulling the covers over his shoulders.

He knew something was missing. Something important.

It was all his fault for the dread that hung thickly in the air, for the sorrow that clawed at his throat, and for the sharp cries of grief coming from the porch, where his housemate sat wailing into the Saturday morning's drizzle.

He ran his pale fingers over the curves of the shoebox he had set near a vase of dying flowers, tracing the sharp corners delicately.

What a way to wake up. He hadn't even had his coffee yet.

What the hell was he doing. He shouldn't be standing here alone, doing nothing while someone special was internally dying on the front steps, probably tearing away at her hair. She had wanted to be alone.

Or, at least he thought she did.

Fuck it.

He gave the box a final pat before slowly creeping his way to the front door. She had gone quiet, save for a couple heartbroken sniffs that he could pick up through the heavy barrier.

Attempting to expel the slight strain from his lungs, he knocked slightly on the heavy oak, opening the door after a six second pause.

Her cinnamon hair clung to her face, small droplets of rain dripping from her chin. No doubt mixed with tears. She hugged her legs closely, staring at the small, dark hue of red that stained the ebony asphalt of the road. Shaky breaths rattled her body as she inhaled a shuddery breath, sniffing miserably before pressing her head to her knees.

A slight mist hung over their lawn, swirling slowly into small, fragile looking curls. The sun appeared to be trying to force its way through the heavy grey clouds, beams of golden light reaching for something, anything to stop itself from drowning in this gloom.

_Me too, buddy _he thought, casting his eyes down back at the wreck on his stair steps. Her blouse clung to the skin beneath it, olive legs shimmering with rain water.

It was a pitiful sight. It wasn't suiting for someone as cheery as her.

He slumped beside her, drawing her close so he could knead his knuckles into the tensed muscles of her shoulders while she leaned into his side without a word.

Water droplets were crawling through the strands of his hair in an uncomfortable fashion, finding their way to his forehead so they could slink down his face and fall from his chin. Even if he couldn't really see it in full detail without his glasses (not that he wanted to. He had seen enough of that stain up close) it was hard to miss, standing out in contrast with its black counterpart.

She jostled him out of thought with her voice, thick with emotion.

"She's gone." It was no question. He swallowed nervously before squeezing her shoulder.

"Yeah." He knew that better than anyone. He was the one to tear off into the abandoned streets, to retrieve what was once theirs. She had hung limply in his fingers, ivory fur drenched with blood.

Cold. Lifeless. Broken.

His heart clenched painfully.

With his partially damp sleeve, he wiped under her swollen eyes carefully.

"She was a good cat, y'know?"

"I know."

Another pause. He forgot to shut the door behind him.

And frankly, he didn't really give a fuck. Not about the door, and not about the upcoming taxes.

He didn't really give a care for anything at the moment besides showering the girl draped under his arm with comfort. She needed it. Hell, she _required _it. It was like a child had received word that their mother would never return.

"She used to, um," she choked, and he pulled her closer, leaning in to press his lips to her damp hair. After a moment she found her words, or breath, once more. "She used to love laundry baskets. When she was really little. I used to sneak her into the cleaners."

He wasn't able to decipher the next sound she created as a chuckle or a sob. "One day she almost got thrown in the dryer. I stopped taking her then."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

Dammit. Was that all he could say? He tore at his mind, for something to say.

Anything. Something to at least lighten the mood, ease up the atmosphere, maybe even relate in a way-

"I used to have a hermit crab," he began. She lifted up her head to look at him. Whether she was thankful for the change of subject of not, she was listening. "When I was, uh, I think I was thirteen. Anyway, he was a grumpy little shit. Didn't like being held or touched or anything. Meanest little fuck I ever had. Almost clipped my finger off—Don't laugh, I'm serious!"

_I don't mean that. _

She knew. After the brief laughter subsided he continued, eyes following the movements of her fingers as she adjusted a wrinkle in his worn out jeans. This was good. He was getting somewhere.

"Anyway, before you so rudely interrupted me—"

"I didn't interrupt—"

"You just did. No, shut your mouth I'm telling a story. So, anyway, crankiest little crab in the entire fucking universe, right?" She nodded. "Yeah. But he used to, well… Ugh, I don't know how to describe it. He just sort of kept me in line, I guess?"

"… You mean he disciplined you?"

"No, dammit, that's not the right way to phrase it. Uh, shit… I guess you could say he felt sort of like some cranky old dad to me or something." The raise of a cinnamon eyebrow questioned his logic. He would have growled at her, but right now wasn't exactly the time for insults.

It was no use attacking when barriers were lowered. Not like he'd want to hurt her anyway.

The state she was in as of this moment hurt his heart enough. He rolled his eyes and tried again.

"Like, okay. He was all snippy and shit, always ready for a fight and what not. 'I'll rip your damn thumb off' attitude."

"I think I get his attitude by now, Karkat."

"Shut up, still telling a story. He was a little shit, but at the same time it felt like he sorta…" He trailed off, searching for a word. Nepeta clasped his hand, marveling at how her small fingers fit through the gaps between his.

"…Cared?"

"Yeah, in a way. When I came home from middle school all depressed and stuff I used to just go to bed and just lay there for a while. I guess I still do that. But his cage was right next to my bed, so when I came back all gloomy he'd come up the glass and sort of watch me."

She pondered this slightly.

"That's…. Actually kind of creepy."

"No it's not! Usually he didn't give a shit about what I did in my room, he was just off in his hermit world or something, but the only time he actually looked at me was either when I was staring out my window or sticking my face in a pillow." He shrugged. By now he too was soaked to the bone. The grey wool of his sweater clung to his skin and his bangs stuck themselves to his tired eyelids, but he didn't pay any mind to it. He was too busy to care. "It felt as if whenever I let my guard down, he was there, watching me. Like he wouldn't mind listening to me."

"He sounded like he was a tsundere."

"The fuck is a tsundere? Is this more of that Japanese garbage? You know I don't understand a single fucking thing you say half the time, right?" The side of her lips pulled up as she glanced to the grass for moment. Better shy than sorrowful. He examined a tree before she prompted him again, setting her chin on his shoulder.

"So what happened to him?"

"Well… Uh, shit.

I used to let him out of his cage to crawl around and stuff. But I forgot that I had let him out one day and sorta…"

"You stepped on him?"

"No, something shocked me or something. I think some bastard was setting off fireworks. Maybe it was one of those jump scare ads, I don't fucking remember, but yeah. I got spooked and sort of… dropped my laptop on him." She wrinkled her nose as she processed the information. Obviously she thought it was an odd way to die. She slung her arm around his neck, shifting to sit on her knees.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. He didn't really do any—"

"But you loved him." It wasn't a question. She was really fucking good at this sort of thing.

"Yeah I… yeah. I did." She twisted a bit so she could embrace him, digging her damp nose into the collar of his sweater.

"I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be," He grumbled into her shoulder. However he accepted the hug, pressing his palm to the center of his shoulders.

"In a way, he sounds like you."

The hell was she talking about? No use asking. She'd probably just brush it off with a 'you'll know someday'.

She wobbled like an over stacked tower as she stood, raising her slender arms in a stretch over her head. She averted her eyes from the red spot on the road before looking down at him.

"So… Can we bury her tonight?" Oh, right.

"Yeah, just say when." She turned and practically tip toed through the open door before poking her head out.

"Karkat."

"Yeah?" She studied their welcome mat intensely before looking at him directly.

"Thanks for going out there and getting her." A shiver worked its way through his veins as a chilly gust of air collided with his soggy clothing.

"It was probably the most I could do. She was a good cat."

"Mhm." She bit her lip. "She was my best friend." After another bout of silence, she inquired from him again. "Are you gonna come say goodbye?"

Goodbye. Why did such a word have to hurt. A beam of light broke its way through the clouds.

"… Of course I am."


	5. Frustration

She watched him carefully from her spot on the ground, tail twitching in anticipation.

He was typing madly away on his husktop, an occasional enraged snarl here and there. He had been doing that for at least forty five minutes now. It filled her with unease.

What was wrong?

Where they losing?

She rested her chin on her knee, blinking slowly. He was stressed, and she longed to approach and ease his mind in whatever way she could. However if she were to approach now, she'd most likely get yelled at.

Her lusus always told her to wait for the right moment. But what if it never came?

She wished she could curl into her warm pelt right now, nuzzle into her crisp white fur, drown in her sweet scent.

But she wasn't here anymore.

"_**FUCKING DAMMIT!" **_She was most likely the only one in the room to jump out of her skin as Karkat bashed his forehead against the desk in frustrated rage, belting out curses as he stayed there, head pressed to the table's edge. Sollux laughed from somewhere nearby.

She slunk over in a cautious, padding carefully around the occasional horn here and there.

Gamzee seriously needed to pick up after himself.

Where was he anyway?

She bumped her head gently against his leg before peering up at his defeated looking expression through the gap between his arm and his waist. She didn't like it.

He growled, only slightly, until she pushed her head into his hand, starting up a purr.

His hand twitched before he decided on an appropriate reaction, and he scratched the back of her head, minding her meowbeast shaped horns. The blue fabric of her hat scrunched up under his fingers.

"Ac leans into Karkat's fingers, purring happily. We're gonna win, right?"

His fingers stopped threading through her hair as he dug his teeth into his lower lip.

"Yeah. We'll win."

"I sure hope so."


	6. Roleplay

AC: :33 *ac leaps into the air, majestic, purrfect, twisting her lithe body as she catches her purrey!*

AC: :33 *ac lets out a mighty roar ofurr her kill, mouth bloodied with bright crimson red!*

CG: UH, NEPETA

AC: :33 *she turns her head toward her crabby matespurrite and purrs*

AC: :33*ac says* whats that karkitty? I didn't quite hear you!

CG: OH

CG: RIGHT

CG: UH

CG: *CG WAVES A HAND AT THE CAT

AC: :33 lion, karkat, lion!

CG: FINE. *CG WAVES OVER THE LION

AC: :33 majestic lion, h33 h33

CG: THIS IS STUPID

AC: :33*ac rubs her head against cg!*

CG: *CG PETS HER MAJESTIC LION HEAD*

AC: :33 are you having fun yet, karkat?

CG: THIS WILL TAKE SOME GETTING USED TO.

AC: :33 youll catch up in no time! :33


	7. Wintertime

Summer was nice. She'd laze about on the front steps with a glass of lemonade while Pounce rolled around in the occasional patch of grass.

In the springtime she'd escape from the confines of her house to roam about in the rain, clad in a transparent green rain poncho. Who needed umbrellas?

In Fall she spent a majority of her time pressed up against her window, cider in hand as she observed the changing world outside her window.

In the winter she used to sit on her couch with her laptop, draped in multiple blankets as she typed away, engaged in an exciting bout of roleplay.

But the last three winters were different.

Where she used to not be as particularly fond of the chilliest season of the year, her special someone, surprisingly, was.

Sure he complained, but as of the moment he was silent as they sat on the wooden bench, excluding themselves from the small population of the park they were located in.

She has settled on his lap, ignoring his multiple protests. Eventually he had given in and wrapped his arms around her waist, snarling slightly when she shot him a triumphant smirk. It was a wonder why he just hadn't dumped her in the snow at their feet.

Together they observed the scenery around them, excluding the occasional person here and there. Trees weighed down with snow, the clouded sky, and the feather light flakes of icy fluff gently settling into their hair.

She turned to offer him a smile and froze, red instantly staining her cheeks.

He stared at her, tired looking eyes full of some sort of affection that was seldom seen.

He leaned in.

"_WAH, KARKAT—"She_ tumbled from his lap, landing in a heap at his feet.

"Oh god _**dammit **_Leijon."


	8. Sickly

Cautiously balancing the cup of tea in her hands, she cautiously nudged the door open with her foot, knocking it slightly with her knuckles.

"You awake?" The response was a violent burst of coughing, ending with a miserable groan. She winced in sympathy.

He was buried under mounds of quilts, shivering violently while Pounce sat upon him. His mood had soured drastically, and he couldn't sleep all that well unless he was in a certain position. He struggled to prop himself on his elbow, covering his mouth as he was overcome with another coughing fit.

"Sorry," she whispered, setting the mug on his nightstand.

"Don't be, it was inevitable." He cleared his throat with a grimace. "That for me?"

"Yep! I heard you coughing downstairs, so I whipped this up for you. You helped me bunches, so this is thanks." He rolled his eyes as he wrapped shaky fingers around the handle.

"It's kind of, oh I don't know, involuntary? I mean we're living together so why the fuck not." She settled on her knees beside him, despite his slight protest.

"Oh don't be silly," she retorted. "I got you sick. It won't affect me." He merely returned the statement with a snort before taking a sip from the steaming liquid.

"It's good."

"Thanks. I put vitamins in it too."

"'That the orangey shit?"

"Yeah, it'll help your throat. How's it feeling anyway?"

"Feel like your fucking cat here shoved her claws down there and ripped it to shreds."

"Better than yesterday?"

"Hell yeah." There was a brief moment as the exchanged small smiles before Nepeta stood, brushing off her legs.

"Well get well soon, okay? I want my side of the bed back. Oh, and holler if you need anything, okay?"

"I won't holler, you'll get your boney ass up here when I raise my goddamn finger."

"Should I get the thermometer?" He nearly spat on Pounce, who shot him a glare.

"You evil bitch."

"I love you too."


	9. Different

Slowly, carefully, and with a hint of a gentle rhythm she wrapped her hands around his slit palm with a piece of cloth, softly humming to herself.

His body was wracked with tension, grey eyes glued to her facial expression.

_She'll snap any second. _He glanced at his blood, a disgrace, ugly, so very fucking _wrong._

_She's gonna break my neck like a fucking twig. _She slipped a bit under another layer and pulled tightly right a triumphant grin.

"Better?"

"Yeah, thanks." He examined her handy work, slowly rotating his hand. "You're good at this, you know that?" She clasped her hands together shyly, olive rising under her cheeks.

"Well, you know. Out here we have to fend furr ourselves. Pounce just licked my cuts and bruises clean, but eventually it wouldn't work out all that well." She glanced rapidly to the side and back with a nervous chuckle. "And Equius nefurr was good at bandaging either. Someone's gotta do it."

"Makes sense, considering you live in a batshit crazy environment, in the middle of fucking nowhere that contains whoever the hell knows what." She shrugged her small shoulders as she shuffled off, placing the bandages on a table.

"Hey."

"Hmm?"

"This might be a mistake, but uh… you've my blood color, right?"

"… Of course, I just now saw it."

"And it doesn't bother you."

"Nope."

"Never did?"

"Nefurr efurr. I think your blood is pawsitivly fine. Hee hee, you worry too much."

"It's _different _Nepeta, it's mutant—I'm a mutant." She arched an eyebrow at him.

"I think the bloodcaste is rather silly, don't you? Besides! It makes you much more interesting!" She pounced at his shoe laces, bapping at the untied threads excitedly.

_I'll never understand you, you autistic fuck._

_But I guess that's a good thing too._


	10. Mornings

The sun crept in through the small crack between their bland green curtains. It stung his heavy lidded eyes as he squinted against the fierce rays of light. Three layers of thick quilts weighed his body down, shielding him from the surely chilly air that surrounded them. The pure white cat at his feet tucked her feet under her chest, leaning against her owner's ankle; or the mound it made through the blankets.

The slender arms draped around his torso tightened as he shifted, irritably snapping the drapes closed with a frustrated sigh before settling back down on his pillow. Her apple scented hair tickled the tip of his nose as he exhaled slowly. For a moment it was pleasantly quiet as she stirred from her slumber, stifling a high pitched yawn.

"What time is it?" Her voice was hardly audible, slightly hoarse. He glanced over her shoulder at the small clock on the nightstand.

"Seven fifteen." The conversation went silent for only a few more minutes as she stretched, quivering slightly.

"Do we have to get up yet?"

"Have you seen the calendar lately? It's Saturday."

"So we can sleep in," she mumbled hopefully, rubbing her eyes. He pressed his lips to her eyelids gingerly.

"For another fifteen minutes. Then you're making breakfast."

"Nooooo, I don't _want _to."

"So I'm gonna starve because you won't get your lazy ass out of bed."

"Have leftovers. We still have meatloaf from Meulin's."

"Fuck that."

"Hey, you said you liked it!"

"No, I mean how long have we had that? It probably mutated into some sort of creature that'll eat us in our sleep."

"You're making breakfast."

"Fine, fine, I'll make your fucking breakfast your majesty. Hope you like burnt eggs because that's all you're gonna ge—JESUS FUCK!" He had sat up, tossing the blankets from his body until she pulled him back down.

"I wanna snuggle first. I'm not awake."

"Make up your fucking mind, god dammit."


	11. Crackers

She wasn't sure what the store was playing on the over head speakers, but it was certainly catchy.

It was about time they got paid; food supplies was running low. And Karkat was suffering from his snack withdrawal. He'd sit on their couch and complain over and over again about how hungry he was. And when she told him to get off his big lazy butt and make something he shot her a look that said 'you know damn well what I'm talking about, Leijon, I want my fucking animal crackers'.

Silly goose.

"I wonder what sort of ramen he wants," she pondered, fingers ghosting over the multicolored packages.

"_**OHMYFUCKINGGODNOAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH"**_ The quiet store exploded with noise, the sound of metal cascading off the tile floors.

"What the—"  
"_**NEPETAAAAAAAA!"**_

"_Attention employees, requesting clean up in the produce department, thank you."_

Oh gosh darn it, Karkat.


	12. Wistful

She knew his face so well. The curve of his lips, the way his hair framed his furious face, the slant of his slate eyes framed in a raging yellow. He was so beautiful.

To her.

Her finger traced a stream of black on her wall as she tenderly sketched his face. His tiny horns, his razor tipped teeth, the sharp points of his face.

Did he even look at her the same way?

Did he look at her, just as he looked at her friend? Her lusus sighed from her spot on a rug, nestling into her tail. It was late.

But she couldn't get him out of her head.

"Why are you so purrfect," she whispered, nail glancing off a shoulder.

A picture was something. But more than anything, she preferred the real thing.


	13. Mischeif

She was purring. If it got an octave higher, she probably would have deafened him. She nuzzled his ear affectionately, securing her arms around his neck.

"Stop that."

She pressed her face against his neck as he ran a couple scratches down her spine before settling on her hips.

"Hee hee."

"I said stop." She leaned back on his legs, showing off her canines. He arched an eyebrow.

"What?" she fidgeted mischievously, aware of the hand that slid over her stomach and up to her shoulder, pulling her forward gingerly so he could press his lips to hers.

Alone time was hard to come across. Might as well make the most of it.


	14. Ferocity

No one has a better vocabulary than Karkat. With all his colorful insults, he could tear down your defenses and shove a knife of loathing directly into the center of your head.

And, unfortunately, she was the victim in this case. And besides stabbing her in the heart, he mercilessly tore into her feelings, ripping her apart.

They never fought. Ever.

She felt like curling into herself over and over again until she just vanished.

She shouldn't have said anything of the sort. It was a trump card, inexcusable, uncalled for, and so very, very hurtful.

And she never wanted to even harm a hair on him.

They had both halted at the brink of violence, and he swerved away from her on his heel, furiously storming over to the furthest corner of the wide spaced room, and she had scampered away, skidding to a halt a couple feet away and staking out beneath an abandoned desk.

Her heart hurt terribly, and she couldn't stop the endless stream of olive tears from pouring rivers down her face, drenching the grey fabric of her pants.

She felt guilty. She shouldn't have egged him on. She _knew _he was in a bad mood, she _knew_ that he could really take a fight to a couple levels.

She was lucky she still had a limb.

But using his blood color in an insult was something beyond anything he could have said. Karkat had snapped his mouth shut, a sharp nailed finger twitching as he pointed at her. A growl had built up in his chest as she had muffled her mouth with her green jacket sleeves.

Because of what she had said, they were going to split. She could feel it.

She fucked up. It was over.

The silence was broken, save for her muted sniffles, as footsteps echoed across the empty room. She hugged her legs closer, burying her nose between her thighs.

She heard him drag his hand over the desk's surface, stopping only to kick a chair into place, and then took a seat. He rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together in a very dignified manner.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him. She pressed against the steel metal of the object, cold stinging her tear stained cheeks. Good God, why couldn't she just vanish right then.

She shuddered as he sighed, scratching something, she couldn't tell.

"Hey."

She would reply if her throat wasn't so tightly wound up.

_Please don't apologize. _She rubbed at her eyes as she finally mustered up the courage to peer up at him from under the desk, practically cringing away.

How could he look so calm? Was that even possible for someone like him?

He blinked, briefly shielding his golden sclera eyes. He leaned down to address her.

"Sorry." She rubbed her nose in a childish fashion, shaking her head.

"No, don't be. I started it."

"It was my fault for keeping it going."

"No, it was my fault for even setting you off in the furrst place!"

"Nepeta—"

"I didn't mean to bring up your blood color, I don't know what came ofurr me, but purrlease, don't tell me this is the end!"

"The fuck are you taking abou—"

What was she talking about? It was as if her mind had completely gone blank in some sort of a fit, desperation and fear mixed together in a mess of emotions.

"I won't say it again, okay? I won't ever make you mad again, yell at me all you want, just don't leave me, purrlease, don't leave Karkitty, _**don't leave m—" **_ She clamped her mouth shut as he raised a hand to silence her, face completely made up of sharp angles. She looked away, assessing her blue gloves. She pissed him off again. Great.

"Okay, first of all, you're a fucking lunatic to think that this ends a matespriteship, two, I think we _both_ at fault for even getting into a stupid argument about whatever the fuck it was, and three, honest to god, if you even decide what the fuck I'm gonna do, it will not end all rainbows and horned hoofbeasts, alright, even you don't tell me how to live." Though his voice was as razor sharp as her claws, they impacted against her mind with little harm. She felt the warmth of his hand palm against her back, and she unconsciously arched against it as he delivered a series of reassuring scratches to her spine. "But yeah, let's keep the whole blood color info under wraps."

She nodded, a miniscule smile touching her lips as she shifted to her knees, wrapping her arms around his waist and stuffing her face into the soft flesh of his middle. Her tears seeped into the ebony fabric of his shirt.

She was lucky to have such a patient matesprite. Though it didn't seem like it, he was certainly a lot of things most others wouldn't suspect.


	15. Self-Asessment

There was absolutely no way he'd ever admit it out loud, but sometimes he became atrociously envious when it came to a majority of things concerning Nepeta.

Such as the way she grinned and threw herself at her best friend, and the way she held her cat close, murmuring softly in her thick, white fur.

There was no denying the fact that he was a sucker for her affection. It made him feel a little disgusted.

Often while Nepeta was at work, Karkat would saunter back from his own job, stopping to give Pounce a skricth on the head before flopping down on the couch, kicking off his shoes.

Which he would place by the door later.

About a good five hours later Nepeta would drag herself through the front door, discarding her coat and shoes in a sloppy fashion before embracing her cat, engaging in a short fit of delighted squeals and purrs.

He'd wait none too patiently from his place at the stove, scraping together a meal he had picked up from the internet. After five minutes she's wander over to him, stand up on her tip toes and grin at him until he gave into her aloof attitude and pressed his lips to hers.

Sometimes things had escalate a tad bit too quickly. He blamed her entirely for burning their food, announcing that that's exactly what they were going to eat.

Of course they didn't however;

She ordered take out.

Know that he thought about it, he guessed that he received a satisfying amount of attention from her.

Still didn't halt his pangs of jealousy though.


	16. Mishaps

Why the hell was he standing _here, _of _**all places, **_being glared at by the opposite sex?

Oh that's right. Because his girlfriend was too fucking lazy to go out and buy her own underwear.

So here he was; located in the feminine regions of Target, face stained a deep hue of scarlet as he shouldered off the curious stares of women, crinkling the paper in his right hand, and averting his eyes repeatedly from the undergarments hanging from their racks.

He was going to kill her. Exactly what was she playing at here? Was this some sort of revenge, because if it was, he would have preferred hauling Pounce's ass to the vet's for her monthly check up.

This situation was worse than getting clawed in the face.

By jove, how, in the ever living _fuck, could women wear some of these things? _

"You're gonna fucking pay for this Leijon, one day, I will make you suffer so horrendously," he hisses, stopping at a shelf as soon as he spotted her preferred measurement. Without a second glance he threw a couple pieces in his cart and hightailed it to the cashier, practically shoving his face in his hoodie as they bagged the underwear, and raced out of the store faster than you could say "pchoo".

He had exploded into the house, tossing the bag skillfully onto her stomach before catching her chin in his hands firmly and whispering: "I really, _**really, loathe every fiber of your existence." **_

She stared at him, green eyes wide before busting out into a flurry of laughter, embracing his face as she snarled into her shirt.

"Oh come on, Karkat it couldn't have been that bad. You were just buying clothes!"

He pulled away with a scoff, settling on the back of the sofa, glaring daggers through his thick rimmed glasses. "Buying clothes that men originally wouldn't. You will never fully understand how humiliating it was to—_**OH MY FUCKING GOD NEPETA, I AM SO SORRY."**_

She closed the bag quickly, dropping her findings on the carpet and fiddling her thumbs together. It was her turn to appear red.

"I didn't think you were into _that _sorta stuff."

"_**I'M NOT, DEAR LORD—"**_

"But hey you bought them, might as well keep them."

He plummeted from his perch, shoving his face into the couch cushion.

He should have double checked.


End file.
